Chapter 18: Breaking and Building

Vee’s POV

I never thought I’d find myself standing on the edge like this—teetering between the girl who ran from Zay and the woman who wanted to fall into his arms. But here I was, caught in the middle of something I couldn’t name, much less control.

It wasn’t like I woke up one day and decided to forgive him. Or even to like him. Not after all the years he made me feel small, invisible, worthless. No. This was something else—something messy and raw and so damn confusing it left me breathless.

The worst part? I wanted it.

I wanted him.

The way his eyes softened when he looked at me. The way his hand felt like it belonged to me when he finally reached for it. The way my heart slammed against my ribs like a frantic drum, threatening to burst free.

I was scared—terrified, even. Scared that opening up would mean getting hurt again. Scared that the walls I’d spent years building would crumble and leave me exposed. But I was also tired. Tired of carrying the weight of everything that happened before. Tired of running.

So when he asked me to meet him after class, I went.

I found him waiting by the old oak tree on campus, the one we used to sneak behind in middle school to avoid the teachers. His eyes flicked up as I approached, the familiar smirk barely hiding the nerves underneath.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to sound casual.

We sat down on the bench, close enough that our knees touched, but not close enough to erase the years between us.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, voice low. “About us. About how I screwed everything up.”

I nodded, heart pounding. “You’re not exactly a stranger to that.”

He laughed, a little bitter. “Yeah, I know. But I’m serious. I want to do this right. If you’ll let me.”

I looked at him—the boy who once made my life hell, now looking like he might break if I said no.

“Why should I believe you?” I whispered.

“Because I’m done being the guy who hurts you. I want to be the one who makes you feel safe,” he said, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

The touch sent a shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes, leaning into the warmth. The tension that had built up inside me for years began to unravel, thread by thread.

But even as I wanted to give in, to trust him, a small voice in my head screamed, Don’t do this. Remember what he did.

I opened my eyes and met his gaze. “I’m scared, Zay.”

He nodded, understanding. “I know. And that’s okay. We’ll take it slow. No rush.”

His words were a balm to my bruised heart.

We stayed there, under the shade of the oak tree, talking about everything and nothing. About the past we couldn’t change, and the future we might build together.

For the first time in a long time, I felt a flicker of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, this could work.